About two hundred yards from where he left his car, the trees started to thin a bit. After another twenty yards, Carrick stood in a small clearing that was open enough to see the starry sky above. The rain had stopped, and the skies cleared. Tipping his head back, Carrick saw a misty moon providing ambient light.
In the center of the clearing was a small pool, no more than five feet in diameter. Really more like a large puddle but rather than appearing muddy, it had an ethereal, glassy surface and the water shimmered silver from where the moonlight struck it. Shutting off the flashlight, Carrick strode to the water’s edge.
Briefly, he stared into the small pool before dropping to his knees before it. He let the flashlight fall to the ground and from his back pocket, he pulled out a knife.
Opening his palm and facing it toward the sky, he deliberately drew the sharp edge of the blade across it. The cut immediately welled and blood pooled in his palm, which he now formed into a cup-like shape with his fingers pressed tight together to hold the ruby liquid in.
Bowing his head, he uttered a rhythmic current of words—a language absolutely unrecognized by any living creature on earth—and slowly extended his arm over the pool. With just a slight rotation, his palm opened, and the blood poured forth into the moonlit puddle. Red ribbons mixed with the moon’s reflection, dispersing outward and finally disappearing.
Carrick’s words slowed down to a murmur and when he went silent, a strange bluish glow illuminated the pool from within. The light turned golden in color, then grew brighter and still brighter yet until he was satisfied and rose to stand tall.
“I give thanks for granting entrance,” he rumbled in English this time, his preferred language.
Had an ordinary person been watching, they would have been astonished to see Carrick take one step forward into the pool. Except rather than his foot sinking into water with perhaps a muddy bottom, it disappeared into the glowing light and connected with something solid.
After that first step, which was one of faith, the water became transparent, and the light coalesced to form a staircase that led downward. The steps were plain, without adornment or handrail, and only a few feet wide but still glowing golden. There’s no telling where it ultimately led, for nothing could be seen but a halo of light that surrounded the first few steps.
Without hesitation, Carrick started to descend the staircase. While to the casual eye, it appeared there was still water covering the small pool, none of it touched him or soaked his clothes as he took step after step downward. He kept on… four, five, six, seven steps before his head was completely submerged, and the pool returned to normal. Nothing but a round puddle with moonlight glimmering off the soft ripples left behind by Carrick’s entrance.
The dense, dark forest having disappeared, he reached the bottom and stepped onto a marble patio surrounded by the appearance of morning sunlight. And not just any type of sunlight, but the kind that was incredibly bright and luminous even though no sun was visible in the sky. The skies were hued mostly blue, but with some pink and orange on the horizon as if the sun were just ready to peak above it.
Just ahead of him was a massive gazebo on a raised dais made of white marble with silver-blue veins running through it. Chaises, pillows, and comfortable chairs were scattered about, ready for someone to lounge upon. All were empty.
The three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view revealed snowcapped mountains hundreds of miles in the distance with verdant, rolling hills in between dotted with fruit trees. The smell of jasmine and gardenia was heavy in the air.
When Carrick turned around, the staircase that would lead back up into his world was gone. In its place, there was a marble pathway that meandered up a small hill to a much larger gazebo of the same white marble. The thick Grecian-styled columns were covered in green vines heavily covered in white and yellow blooms. Carrick could see five figures standing there, watching him.
The minute his blood hit the pool in the water, they had assembled there to await his arrival.
The Council.
Carrick’s stride was confident as he moved along the path, then up a set of steps to the gazebo. He was not intimidated by the beings before him, even though they had the power to destroy his life if they so chose. Hell, any one of them could snap their fingers, and he’d be dead.
Each held immeasurable power. They were known throughout history as The Council; although at one point in time, they’d been called The Infinites. As the world evolved, it had been decided that, given their duties, The Council sounded far more officious than their former title. It’s not like there was anyone to question them about renaming it.